Scars
by IluvmyTV-ugottaproblem
Summary: I came up with this story one day a LLOOOOONNNNGG time ago and I thought it would fit in after adding the last piece. R&R! SMACked, DL, angel Angell/Flack, and hints of Adam/OC's. Rated T for mentions of beating


A/N: Okay, this one came to me whilst watching Charge of This Post. I don't know why, it just did. Some of the wording may or may not make sense. It was supposed to be poetic-ish. Not really? Oh well. I say it now. REVIEW!!!

Disclaimer: Do I have to say it? Again? In front of all these people? fine, IdonotowninanywayCSI:NY. There done. Happy?Good.

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Sheldon stood in front of his full length mirror. He didn't know why he had one, he just did. He looked at himself in the mirror. Once over, twice over, three times over. Nothing. Not a scratch. Then he closed his eyes. He did a mental look over. Scratches, gashes, stitches. He was bloodied and needed to be washed. He was mentally scarred. Nothing scared him more than this. He was heartbroken, beaten by bets, gambling, debts. Scratched by everything he'd seen in the years he had been with the Crime Lab. Gashed by all the tears he'd seen while he was in the morgue. He was scarred mentally.

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Lindsay Messer looked in her mirror. Her husband was at work and Lucy was asleep. She took a good long look. A scar from her appendix being taken out when she was 12 was still there and so was the scar from the blast 3 years before when Don was almost killed. Another from the shootout that almost took Danny's life at the bar after Jess had been killed. A head, a back and a hip. Hand in hand in hand physically scarring.

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Mac and Stella stood side by side and looked in the mirror at his apartment. He, covered in physical scars from Beirut and bombings and shootings over his years as an officer. She, emotionally scarred because of he neglected childhood and the orphanage as well as Frankie and other countless men who had tried to kill her. Tried and didn't succeed. She was loved by her best friend, her partner, her shoulder to cry on and she was the ring on his finger, the eye of the beholder, and the love of his life. To kill someone when they lived on was a shame so where she had smooth skin he had none and where he had smooth memories she had bumps and rolls. They cared for each other and saw through the scars.

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Adam, abused by his father, blasted, shot at, hit, smacked, bruised, beaten. Emotionally, physically, mentally. If there was any way to sum up all of the team and their scars, it was Adam. He was called names, beaten with sticks, and traumatized just for fun. Playing beat up the nerd isn't fun, especially when the nerds decide to gang up on you. He winced when he was poked and prodded and tested. He stared at himself. He couldn't believe how much heartbreak there was. So much more than expected with just one night stands and bar girls he picked up while intoxicated. There were those few, those very few, that stumbled into his arms by surprise and when they left it hurt so much. So much so, that he didn't hurt anymore.

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Danny stood there, in the locker room, watching as his best friend and former partner, whose life had been taken by D.J Pratt, appeared before him. Ruben Sandoval stood next to her. Aiden was damaged greatly from burns, even as an angel. Ruben, had a scar and countless others that Danny had never seen. Danny himself looked out of sorts, was it odd that there were 2 scars on his heart and only one set of stitches? Of course it was because Lindsay had sewn him up when he needed it. And on his stomach, where he was hit in the spring a fresh scar sat, pink and shiny. He had another on his shoulder and his nose and even his jaw along with his hand and countless other parts of his body. His jaw went slack and he was surprised by the way his body looked compared to the angels that stood before him. He was brought out of his reverie by his pager going off.

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Don looked at the form in the mirror. Her scars matched his. Angell's angelic hands slipped from his torso and ran across the scar on his stomach and chest that ran to uncharted territory. He looked at the scars and noticed a slight difference in the angel. Hers were bloody and new. His were puckered and old. He was so different from the angel that lost her life protecting her city. He looked on as she walked into the distance and into God's outstretched arms and Donald Flack Jr. whispered,

"Goodbye, my angel. I'll see you in heaven , if you light the way."

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A/N: Okay I am crying now. Die stupid emotions, die, die ,DIE!!! Okay exit to your left and leave a review on your way out, THANK YOU!!!!

Kisses

~Sarah~


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